


Pleasant Dreams

by themonstrousregiment



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, hints of romantic feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themonstrousregiment/pseuds/themonstrousregiment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the following prompt on the ROTG kink-meme:</p>
<p>"Sandy sneaks off early from the celebrations to help Pitch deal with the nightmares that dragged him away. Any rating is fine, as long as there is some fluff in it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I filled this is in the comments sections of the kink-meme too, but I figured I'd put it on here too.   
> Not really my best work, but it's the first fic I've written in quite a long time.   
> Enjoy?

The Nightmare King’s lair is as its rulers name; as black as the darkest pitch. The crawling shadows of its many corners are left unchecked as they slink across floors and creep up walls, seeking and smothering any pockets of light. 

The Sandman is a beacon in the dark. In the palm of his hand a ball of golden dreamsand releases a steady glow, while strands of sand curl around his feet, chasing away the shadows daring enough to approach. He is out of place in this place of Nightmares, but Sanderson Mansnoozie is worried.

Back at the North Pole the other Guardians are celebrating their victory, achieved just a few short hours ago, over their eternal foe, the master of fear and King of Nightmares. Sandy had joined in the festivities for an hour or so, nursing an everlasting mug of eggnog and munching on the many platters of cookies offered by overactive elves, yet Sandy found he could not fully enjoy himself, his mind plagued with the fate of his opposite, Pitch Black.

Sandy, unlike his fellow Guardians, was finely in tune with the balance of the world, of the weight of light and dark, joy and fear. As the Guardian of Dreams it was his duty to instil innocence and joy in the dreams of the children of earth, yet he knew the importance of fear. While it corrupted his precious dreams, fear was necessary, for without it children would wander careless, would not watch their step and would not know to run from those who would hurt them. Sandy knew that he and Pitch stood at the edge of opposing forces, but that the border between gold and darkness could run thin, and that if one fell so would the other.   
It was this knowledge that had, in the past, led the small Guardian to allow nightmares to creep into the dreams of children, to allow the Boogeyman to lurk under beds and in the corners of children’s bedrooms undisturbed, and it was this knowledge that had the small man leave the company of his friends and enter the domain of his natural foe. 

Sandy had been walking for nigh on half an hour, his eyes straining against the shadows, when he heard the first sounds echoing in the darkness. They were faint and muffled, but the grunts and whimpers were unmistakably the sounds of pain. 

Flying forward, branches of dreamsand shot from his feet, spreading like branches of pure light and piercing the dark ahead. Sandy did not have to go much further when he came across a large open space, a circular hall with a roof so high it was lost in the shadows. At its centre was a writhing pile of Nightmares, their golden eyes glinting menacingly and their bodies coiling like snakes as they feasted on the fear of their prey. 

With a worried gesture Sandy sent his dreamsand into the fray, using his whips to pull at the many Nightmares and drag them from the prone body of their once King, sending the creatures skittering away with a fearsome glare and a wave of golden sand. Finally his sand scattered the last of them, and he slowly approached the figure lying motionless on the ground.

As soon as Sandy’s golden light touched his clammy grey skin, Pitch’s eyes shot open and he quickly forced his pained body to its knees, propelling himself backwards and away from the invading light. Seeing the fear on the open face of the Boogeyman, Sandy halted his approach and held his hands up in a placating manner. Once he was safe in the embrace of the shadows Pitch was quick to compose himself, and his golden-silver eyes glared at the intruder in his home.

“What do you want?” He hissed, pointed teeth bared in a scowl.

With a careful smile Sandy made the image of a tear, a band aid and then a question mark.

“You were worried? You who banished me to this darkness, who stripped me of my power,” Pitch spat, “Return to your Guardians little man, you are not welcome here.” 

Sandy frowned and took a step forward, images flashing urgently above his head: Are you hurt?

“Why do you care? I have nothing now, nothing but my Nightmares, and even they, my own children, have turned against me. Leave me to my suffering you insufferable glow worm, I do not want you here.”

With a grunt of frustration, Pitch dragged his protesting body to its feet, fully intending on forcing the Sandman to leave. He had barely taken a step when he gasped in pain, his legs falling out from beneath him. He braced himself for impact with the cold hard floor, but instead fell into a cloud of soft gold sand. 

Wincing at the bright light Pitch closed his eyes, reluctantly allowing the sand to cradle his sore limbs. Small hands grabbed his arm and he curled his body away, but Sandy was persistent and drew Pitch onto his knees, his short arms drawing around the man in a protective embrace. 

“Why are you doing this?” Pitch croaked out, tense and fearful in the arms of his natural opposite, “After all that I have done to you…” 

There was no verbal response, not that Pitch was expecting one from the perpetually silent man, but a hand gently gripped the back of his head and small fingers began to stroke his hair in an undeniably comforting gesture. A voice in the back of his mind urged him to drag himself away, to flee, but he was tired and sore and the Sandman was warm. 

Sandy smiled as he felt Pitch slowly relax in his hold, his shaky breaths gradually calming as he fell into a restful sleep, the Boogeyman unable to resist the soothing touch of the dreamsand. Supporting the man’s worryingly light weight, Sandy carefully moved him into a more comfortable position on a bed of gold sand. A bony hand instinctively reached out to clasp his front as he pulled away, the Boogeyman’s defences down as he moaned faintly in protest. 

Clasping the slender fingers in his own, Sandy placed a tender kiss on his forehead, wiping away the fear from Pitch’s brow with a sprinkle of dreamsand. In Pitch’s dreams a slender figure and a small girl played with beautiful fluttering butterflies and Sandy smiled, glad to have given the Nightmare King peace in his sleep, even if it was just temporary.


End file.
